


the courage of stars

by madnessiseverything



Series: cr daily drabbles [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort, Destiny, Gen, Pre-Canon, Stargazing, but its okay because the stars are pretty, spoilers for character backstories up until ep 49, there's angst because its the mighty nein but also its lowkey for once, they're all alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 08:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18464881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: The sky is clear with not a cloud in sight to block the view. The air is freezing. It’s not quite spring yet, the taste of frost still in the air, the lingering cold of a hard winter seeping into weary bones. There is something else, something that doesn’t make itself known as easily as the biting breeze. No, it is much different. Warmer, almost. Intangible, an odd feeling that sits below the sternum and takes care to spread carefullyor the one where the Mighty Nein look up at the same stars before their paths cross.





	the courage of stars

**Author's Note:**

> and here I am with the mysterious day two drabble :P. it turned into a wonderful 2k piece because I couldn't help myself. hope you enjoy this glimpse at the m9 before the fateful town of Trostenwald.
> 
> title from saturn - sleeping at last

The sky is clear with not a cloud in sight to block the view. The air is freezing. It’s not quite spring yet, the taste of frost still in the air, the lingering cold of a hard winter seeping into weary bones. There is something else, something that doesn’t make itself known as easily as the biting breeze. No, it is much different. Warmer, almost. Intangible, an odd feeling that sits below the sternum and takes care to spread carefully. It feels like hope, one could say, a swooping feeling giving one the energy to continue on. It feels like freedom, like being able to breathe after too much pressure on a creaking ribcage. It feels right, amidst the cold of the night, a warm spark providing warmth in the frosted night.

 

-

 

 ~~BrenThomasAlexHannes~~ seeks shelter from the breeze, with a ratty coat made for weather like this, yet full of holes he should really think of patching up. He leans his back against a tree, the view of the open field ahead of him one he does not wish to pass by tonight. He cannot explain the urge to tilt his head back and take in the night sky, cannot explain the deep inhale, exhale, repeat. His chest never feels light, body struggling under the weight of what he has done.

But there is something in the air, he muses, something that makes him look up at the stars with what feels like a calming sense of determination. Stars shine down, dot the sky like silverwork on a dark canvas. The two moons are distant, off to his right as he stares straight up, but their light paints the frosted landscape like a sea of diamonds. Bark tangles in his hair and he stays, breathes.  
  
A snap summons a purring familiar into his lap, hands sinking into warm fur. He does not wish to smile, does not believe he can anymore. Nevertheless, there is something, kindle between his ribs, something that keeps his breaths even, calm, something that makes him look up at the stars with a sense of calm he does not think he deserves. He takes it.

Frumpkin purrs, his head burrowing into ~~JonasFrankPhillip~~ ’s coat. They sit, breathe, look up at the stars. He can do it, he knows. There is a way.

 

-

 

Nott falls onto her back, chest hiccuping, the long grass around her waving in the cold breeze. She crushes a single blade of it as it bows down to tickle her nose. She sighs, heavy, downtrodden, sad. She should not rest here, she thinks distantly. An open field should not feel this safe. Yet, as she finds the blinking stars above her, single grass blades crossing the view from time to time, she cannot find the strength nor will to move on. Maybe she has run far enough for today. Just a small rest, she thinks. Short, just to enjoy the sky. By any gods out there, she misses stargazing. Sharp claws sink into not quite frozen earth and she adjusts her position.

She cannot explain why she feels this safe, instead of exposed. But there is something warm settling into her chest as her eyes track constellations. She remembers the most beautiful voice in the world explaining the stars in great detail. If she closes her eyes, she might be able to pretend that the bump in the ground is another hand beneath hers, that she is in familiar grass.

She keeps her eyes open, looks up at the stars and feels something she might dare call hope swell beneath her breastbone. She can go back to that familiar grass. She can figure out a solution. She was robbed of her body, but not her mind. She can do it.

 

-

 

Beauregard carefully prods at her nose, wincing at the bite of the frigid air. Gods, she should have timed the fight better, if only to catch a few more minutes of the tavern’s warmth. A sharp pain shoots through her face and she curses, leaning her head against the bricks behind her.  
  
It’s not like she started it, she thinks as her eyes focus on the bright dots along the midnight sky. She simply finished what that bastard of a man started when he groped the woman next to Beau. A heavy sigh leaves her as she watches the stars look down at her.  
  
A scoff comes out of her mouth unbidden as she thinks about the past month. Life really fucking did not want her happy. Not that she cares. She is fine. She does not need memories of sneaking out and running through nature, her only witnesses the very same stars now looking down as if disappointed. She doesn’t need the stars to judge her, she has had plenty of judgment without them staring back at her unblinking.  
  
She doesn’t stop looking at the sky though. She keeps her eyes focused on the cluster of stars above the alley. The longer she looks, the more the constant weight of anger in her chest loosens, gets replaced by an odd sense of calm she doesn’t think she’s ever felt.  
  
And if she finds herself with a small smile on bloodied lips, well, nobody is around to see it.

 

-

 

Yasha looks up at the far expanding sky, head tilted back and wind tugging at her hair. The stars look back and Yasha does not know if the sudden feeling settling into her chest is worry at the lack of clouds or relief at the beautiful view. The path is sturdy, if dusty beneath her boots and the stars glitter among the deep black. She breathes in the cold air, lets it flow in around the spark of something. There is a soft certainty within her, that this is the right path, the right way to serve her Lord.  
  
She remembers skies from back home, remembers whispered conversations shared below star-speckled black. A drying flower burns within her pack and she exhales. She sits down by the side of the road, crosses her legs and puts her hands on the ground behind her as she leans her head back and continues watching the sky.  
  
The ghost of fingers long gone caress the back of her hand and the sorrow lodged deep within her chest loosens ever so slightly. She’s alone, she doesn’t fall for the dream of Zuala leaning against her shoulder. But she looks up at the stars and lets herself breathe for a moment. There are no clouds. She can allow herself a brief respite.  
  
She allows herself to feel the memory of Zuala’s warmth, allows herself the memory of secret kisses underneath a similar sky. Her Lord will let her know when she needs to move on.

 

-

 

Mollymauk sighs dramatically and drops back onto the fuzzy blanket spread out on the grass. Next to him, Toya curls up, yawning. Around them, the camp is mostly quiet, save for the familiar noise of Mona and Yuli bickering in their tent. Molly crosses his arms behind his head and looks up at the sky.  
  
Gustav had mentioned stories about the blinking stars speckled over the midnight blue, stories not unlike some that the circus used for acts. Molly finds himself - not for the first time - wishing that he had the words to repeat the stories back to lull Toya into sleep. Kylre is a mountain just off to their left, attentive eyes scanning the environment for threats.  
  
Molly finds himself following a trail of stars ever so slightly bigger than those around them. He doesn’t fully remember Gustav’s words about those, but grins as he begins to think up his own tale.  
  
With thoughts of ridiculous adventurers failing spectacularly at their quests, a spark of complete peace ignites within him. This is the life, he thinks. A clear night, a sky covered in stories and the soft sound of a family, his family, around him. Not that he has much to compare it to, but he is incredibly certain that this is the definition of peace.

 

-

  
  
Caduceus inspects the cold floor, smiles down at the seeds he knows are growing fast and well. He straightens and frowns. The night seems to have crept up on him. With a shrug, he leans on his staff and, feeling a soft call, looks up into the clear, black sky. Knowing stars look down at him and he can feel the presence of the Wildmother, can feel Her in the air, looking down at Her temple and cleric. Caduceus wonders when the call will be louder than this. He knows this is not yet a sign, merely a reminder.  
  
He smiles at the eyes of nature, at the silver dots watching over the world for the Wildmother. Around him, Her garden hums. Soon, he thinks. The sign will come soon. He can feel it like he can feel the rain on other days, like he can feel Her eyes on him, ready to call upon him to follow his family’s path to fix the scourge set upon the woods surrounding his home.  
  
He breathes in deeply, lets the frost dig into his skin. It’s a good night, he muses. This calls for a nice cup of tea and some meditation. Maybe he can let Her know that he understands. He nods, but stays another while to marvel at the beauty drawn by the Mother’s hand. His home is painted in silver light and glittering frost, mirroring the sky far above.  
  
The Wildmother’s smile is to be seen in every inch of nature. Caduceus appreciates the sight.

 

-

 

Jester shivers atop her horse, but grips her paintbrush with determination and a bright smile. Patting Rainbow, she leans her head back and points to the skies.  
  
“I am going to paint pictures, Rainbow! Right into the stars!” She flips her brush and draws a unicorn into a swirl of stars that already remind her of the glitter that would surround something as wonderful as a unicorn. She finds herself adding wings.  
  
She contemplates the sky for a few minutes before she giggles, remembering the Traveler’s stories about how he once drew a dick with the stars themselves to trick an old sailor at the docks of Nicodranas. “This one’s for you, Traveler.”  
  
A distant chuckle makes her heart jump with pride. “Magnificent.”  
  
“Did you hear that, Rainbow? He likes it!” Leaning forward, she gently places her elbows in front of her saddle and puts her chin into her hands, brush tickling her cheek. “What else should I draw?” Rainbow doesn’t answer, but Jester doesn’t need him to. “You’re so right! We need to draw Momma!”  
  
She smiles at the warm feeling around her heart as she draws her mother’s beautiful face into the beautiful stars. She wonders if her mother can feel the same warmth. She hopes so. She misses her. But maybe, if she draws the legendary Ruby of the Sea into the sky, other wanderers will see her and marvel at the most beautiful woman in the whole world. So she draws and smiles up at the art her mind places among the stars.

 

-

 

  
Fjord feels the sand beneath his back, feels the lingering burn of salt water in his lungs. He is freezing, the wind unforgiving. Not too far from his feet, waves lap at the sand in a calming sense, no matter how tainted his memories of the ocean now feel. Cold metal presses against his midsection and he exhales. The stars look down on him and he is alive.  
  
He doesn’t quite know how. His lungs ache and his back stings. He can’t bring himself to move, shock and betrayal still as raw as the memory of water pushing into his mouth. He flexes his hand around the hilt of the sword.  
  
The stars still shimmer like he remembers from the ship, though he can tell that he is far away from the position of the ship. He swallows back acid at the thought of his seaborn home. He should have known better than to get comfortable. Of course something good couldn’t last. Has he not learned this lesson enough times?  
  
He forces himself to exhale and focus back on the stars. He breathes and the stars look down without change. Something new settles into the space behind his lungs. The sword hums in his grip, and determination seeps into his drenched bones. He will find out what happened. He can do it. The stars almost seem to smile, though they seem more yellow than minutes before. Their light feels warmer.  
  
Fjord smiles back at them.

 

-

 

The stars look down on the souls fated to cross paths soon. They look down and smile. Because they know. They know the beautiful things meant for the souls, know the chaos and beauty they will bring to each other and their environment. So they smile and wait for destiny to tug the souls towards each other.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come yell with me about the wonderful disasters over on my [cr twitter](https://twitter.com/nottanycritter) and [cr tumblr](https://nottanothercritter.tumblr.com/). <3


End file.
